


Everything that drowns me

by MirandaTam



Series: Rebuilding from the ground up [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Class Issues, Gen, Martial Arts, Minor Violence, Probably Inaccurate Portrayal of Mechanics, Rape Aftermath, Rape Culture, Rebuilding, Self-Defense, Vigilantism, no on-screen rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirandaTam/pseuds/MirandaTam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami starts taking walks around the city two weeks before Korra vanishes.</p>
<p>Korra needs somebody to help her get her strength back, and Asami’s never been good at that sort of thing – she’s good with sympathy, good with empathy, hell, good with antipathy, if she doesn’t like someone. But she’s never been good with… <i>strengthening</i> people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything that drowns me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from OneRepublic's _Counting Stars_.

Asami starts taking walks around the city two weeks before Korra vanishes.

Korra needs somebody to help her get her strength back, and Asami’s never been good at that sort of thing – she’s good with sympathy, good with empathy, hell, good with antipathy, if she doesn’t like someone. But she’s never been good with… _strengthening_ people.

And frankly, it’s _exhausting_. Asami knows that it’s horrible to think this, but she just… can’t deal with it any more, with Korra sucking the mood out of the room, with feeling like she’s not allowed to be happy. It feels like if she talks to Korra any more, she’ll drain away into a sea of gloom.

The city is a breath of fresh air.

That’s not to say it’s not having its troubles – hell no. Everywhere she looks, people are homeless, their houses covered in vines, water pipes not working, electricity not flowing to entire blocks because of cut power lines.

But nobody’s giving up.

People are working, day and night, to fix things – construction workers helping out their neighbors fix broken walls, firebenders helping people get their electricity working, waterbenders purifying contaminated water, even children running around giving food and drinks to workers.

The city may have been knocked down, but it’s certainly not out.

Then, of course, Korra runs away.

Mako flips out, as usual; Bolin, true to form, panics a little but then calms down. Both boys go curl up by Naga and pretend not to cry.

Asami goes for a walk.

 

 

She’s walking through the Dragon Flats borough when she comes across the girl with the broken radio.

The girl’s sitting on some spirit vines, radio guts scattered across the pavement in front of her, small screwdriver in hand and a lost expression on her face.

She can’t be more than ten or twelve. Asami can’t figure out what part of the world she – or her parents – might be from; she’s got a water tribe complexion but something about her suggests fire nation. She’s also fairly obviously poor; aside from the (several years out of date, Asami notices) dismembered radio, her clothes are probably second or third-hand hand-me-downs, and her hair is cut short like so many of the lower class.

“Here, let me help with that,” Asami says before she quite knows what she’s doing, and kneels down to the dirty pavement.

The girl looks up at her, biting her lower lip nervously. “You know how to fix electronics?” she asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it,” Asami says, already gathering the spilled parts. “What happened to it?”

“I dropped it,” the girl says quickly, like she’s peeling off a bandage. “It was an accident! But then it didn’t work so I figured I’d fix it, but…”

“It’s okay,” Asami hastens to reassure her. “I actually did the same thing once when I was little, but my dad taught me how to fix it. See, a radio works because of radio waves, right? So it needs somewhere to receive them…”

Asami talks the girl through reassembling the radio, which turns out slightly bulkier than it should be and lighter a few twisted bits of metal that even Asami couldn’t figure out the use of, but it turns out functional, and that’s all that really matters.

“I’m Priya,” the girl introduces herself. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Asami hesitates. Her name is pretty well-known in the city, both from Future Industries and from her escapades with Korra.

“It’s okay,” Priya says, reassuring in that way that ten-year-olds have. “You don’t want to show off how rich you really are, but it’s okay. I know you’re not snobby, you’re _nice_. You taught me how to fix the radio!”

Asami smiles a bit. “All right,” she says. “I’m Asami.”

Priya’s silent for a moment. “That should probably mean something to me, shouldn’t it.”

Asami laughs. “It’s completely fine if it doesn’t. Do you know if there’s anything else I can help out with?”

“Yeah!” Priya bounces up. “Mister Hasuk’s car broke down yesterday when he was trying to tow some boulders. Are you good with cars?”

“I’m passable,” Asami says. “Can you take me there?”

Maybe she’s asking to get mugged, but this is the first time in a long, long while that Asami feels like she might actually be able to help people.

Mister Hasuk’s car is a pretty simple fix, and so’s the subtle upgrade she gives it; Rami from Down the Street’s car is slightly more complicated, but definitely not as bad as Miss Shiro Priya’s Upstairs Neighbor’s automated printing press.

After the almost-disaster that was the printing press, Priya drags Asami downstairs to her own home.

“Mama!” she calls out. “I made a friend and she fixed the radio and also some other things!”

“Priya, what do you mean, a _friend_ – oh.” Priya’s mother stops short and looks Asami up and down.

Asami flushes and looks down, all too conscious of her ‘rich person look.’

Priya sighs noisily. “Mama, she’s not stuck up, she helped Mister Hasuk with his car and she completely fixed Rami’s car, too, and she even helped with Miss Shiro’s printer!”

Priya’s mother is silent for a minute. Asami glances up, expecting the worst–

Priya’s mother is trying not to laugh.

“You look so worried,” she says through her giggles. “Please, come in. I’m San. If you’ve been doing that much work – did you really fix Shiro’s printer?”

Asami nods wordlessly.

“You must be _exhausted_ ,” San says. “Come on in, have something to drink.”

“Thank you,” Asami says, relieved, and enters.

 

 

The next day, she misses her walk – she’s too busy being cried on by Mako and Bolin, and then by Jinora, and then by _Tenzin_ , of all people.

“Did I do the right thing, saying that airbenders should help with the Avatar’s job?” Tenzin asks, pacing around and practically pulling what little hair he has right out of his face. “You _do_ know Korra better than I do. I should have connected with her more – I should have tried to be there for her more often, tried to… to _listen_ better.”

“I miss the way she used to be,” Jinora admits, curled up in a gazebo. “Do you think running away will help her get better soon? Or, maybe not better, but… happier? Happier is better, right? I hope she’s okay!”

“Did I do something wrong?” Mako asks her, puppy-dog eyes at full blast. “Shit, I’m really, really sorry, Asami, but do you know if there’s something that I could have done that I didn’t do, or something like that? I… did I mess it up again?”

Bolin just wants to cry and commiserate, and he brings chocolate. He’s officially Asami’s favorite.

“Korra needs time alone to heal, I just wish she’d given us some _warning_ ,” Bolin says, waving the food around. “Like, an ‘ _oh, yeah, I’m gonna go, I haven’t been kidnapped again, don’t panic!_ ’ That would have been okay!”

“Or just… let us in a bit more,” Asami says quietly.

“Yes!” Bolin points at her. “You are so correct. I mean, it’s not her fault that she’s not letting us in, but… ugh. This _sucks_.”

It does, as Bolin put it so eloquently, _suck_. And the worst part is that Asami can’t do anything about it. It’s not a radio she can put back together or a car she can fix. She couldn’t make it better by helping Korra, by pushing her wheelchair and helping her dress, and she can’t make it better by giving people a shoulder to cry on.

The poorer boroughs are the most unsafe parts of the city for a girl like her. She misses them almost as much as she misses Korra, that day.

 

 

Asami helps rebuild her city.

It’s not as if word gets out that Asami Sato Herself is fixing people’s machines for free down in the Dragon Flats borough, but people figure out there’s a good mechanic available there sometimes, and broken machines start accumulating. She fixes them all, all the ones she can; some of them are broken beyond repair, but for the most part it’s radios with missing parts and cars that have gotten dented by rubble.

Asami’s proudest moment probably comes when she catches Priya fixing one of the radios she’d set aside for later.

“What?” Priya asks when Asami notices. “You have a lot to do! I figured I could help, at least.” She bites her lip and looks down. “And also you’re helping us out a lot and _I_ wanted to help too.”

Asami doesn’t even try to stop the grin that comes to her face. “Well, who am I to stop you?” She glances down at the car she’s working on. “Finish that up and come over here, I could use a second pair of hands on this, okay?”

Priya’s smile is brighter than the sun.

Not all of it is fun and games, though; two weeks in, she gets word that somebody has a badly broken car over in the neighboring borough.

Asami’s going to go fix it, of course. (It’s sort of scary how quickly word got out that there was a mechanic working for free down in the Dragon Flats borough – newspapers have nothing on the power of gossip.) Priya insists on going with her, which is the real problem; Dragon Flats is rough, but the Bison Heights borough is worse.

Asami argues with Priya, even threatens to go to San, but Priya pouts and glares and says that she can look after herself, and Asami had promised – _promised_ – to teach her how to fix up steering mechanisms, and was she going to _break_ her _promise?_

When they enter the borough, Priya walks _very_ closely behind Asami.

The car is in a building in the middle of the borough, and is (as far as Asami can tell) the _only_ car in the borough. It’s also one of the most beat-up cars she’s ever worked with; she’s seen cars in a junk heap that worked better than it.

She wrenches and kicks and cusses it into shape, though, Priya and the car’s owner watching on with wide eyes, and when she leaves the car is, at the very least, functional.

It’s later than Asami would have liked; not dark, yet, but dusk is starting to fall. She holds tight to Priya’s hand as they wind their way through the borough, other hand within reach of her electrified glove.

They’re almost at the edge of the borough when a man steps in front of them; Asami glances back and notices another one behind them.

“Now, ladies,” the man in front says. “We don’t want any trouble–”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Asami interrupts. “So you wouldn’t mind moving out of our way?”

Priya’s practically crushing her hand, and almost hyperventilating. She tugs on Asami’s arm; the man behind them has been slowly getting closer.

The first man sighs. “Come on, ladies. Just follow us–”

Asami smiles her company smile, the one she uses for businessmen and assholes. “Sorry, I think we’ll have to pass on that,” she says, steps back, pivots, and kicks the other man in the neck.

He makes a choking noise and goes down; the first man yells out and charges at them.

Asami pushes Priya out of the way, sidesteps his charge, and trips him onto his friend.

“Come on, let’s go home,” she says gently, taking the girl’s and and leading her away.

 

 

“It was _terrifying_ ,” Asami hears Priya telling her mother in the other room. “But it was also so cool! She just… she just _kicked_ them, and they went down! And didn’t get up!”

“Priya!” San exclaims. “I don’t think something like that could be considered _cool_. It was very dangerous! You could have been hurt or killed.”

“Mom!” Priya sighs loudly and pointedly. “The bad guys weren’t cool. They were scary. The way Asami beat them up was cool!”

San sighs and orders Priya off to bed. Asami tinkers with the watch she’s working on; clockwork has never been her specialty, but it helps her concentrate.

“Asami?” San says quietly from the doorway.

“I’m so sorry,” Asami says quickly. “I shouldn’t have taken her there in the first place, I knew it was a bad idea–”

“Okay,” San says, cutting her off. “Okay. Just… be more careful with her, okay? She’s a bright kid, but she’s still only eleven.”

Asami looks down. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, from what it sounds like, you handled the situation pretty well,” San admits. “Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” Asami promises.

“Good,” San says. “Have a safe walk home.” A small grin appears on her face. “Though it seems like you can handle yourself.”

Asami rolls her eyes, bids San goodnight, and starts the walk back to the docks.

Mako joins her halfway there.

“I can handle myself, mister police officer,” she tells him.

He sighs. “I know, I know. It’s just… the streets are rough at night, okay?”

“Oh, _please_.” She rolls her eyes. “I literally just beat up two thugs today. It took less than half a minute. I think I’ll be okay walking home.”

“I – wait, what?” Mako’s looking at her like she’s grown a second head. “ _What_ happened?”

She shrugs. “There was this guy with a really beat-up old car, over in Bison Heights,” she says. “On the way back, two guys tried to mug Priya and me. So I beat them up.”

“ _Bison Heights?_ ” Mako looks so scandalized, Asami can’t help but laugh. “Asami, this isn’t funny! Bison Heights isn’t safe for… uh…”

“For someone rich like me?” she asks. “Or for a non-bender like me? Or for a girl?”

“It’s just… not,” he grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“ _Why_ is it not?” she asks. “Come to think of it, I didn’t see any police officers over there. And there are barely any in Dragon Flats, too. What’s up with that?”

“It’s police policy,” Mako says. “We don’t patrol in most of the poorer boroughs.”

“ _What?_ ” Asami stares at him, aghast. “That’s ridiculous! Why?”

Mako throws his hands up in the air. “I know, right? The policy is that there’s too much to do down there, so if we started we’d never get anything else done. People can come to us, but we can’t go to them. And even when people do come in…” he grimaces and shakes his head. “They get dismissed, shoved off to the side. So those areas are practically lawless, unless they enforce it themselves – hell, even the Triple Threats protect their people. In Bison Heights, it’s just every man for himself.”

“That’s horrible,” Asami says. “Why doesn’t Chief Beifong do something about it?”

Mako hesitates. “I’m… not sure she knows,” he says quietly. “Or if she does, there’s nothing she can do about it. There’s lots of bureaucracy stuff, and the original policies were under the control of the council – now the president.”

Asami shakes her head. “How can they just keep it that way? Why would they _do_ that?”

Mako looks over at her. “When did you become an idealist?”

“When did people having basic safety from criminals become _idealism_?” Asami snaps back.

“Asami…” He sighs. “Most of the people in the poorest places don’t even _want_ the police around. They’re too judgemental, you know? They’ll arrest someone for stealing, but kids will steal just to get by. What happens to them? What about the people who are just poor, but get judged by the police, maybe even arrested? It’s just a tough situation, okay?”

They’ve reached the docks. “You going to come over and stay on the island tonight?” Asami asks, changing the subject.

Mako shakes his head. “Nah, there’s gonna be a stakeout around midnight. Hopefully we’ll catch the guy.”

“Good luck!” Asami says, getting into the boat.

“Thanks,” Mako replies. “And… don’t go to Bison Heights again, okay? It’s too rough.” He turns and walks away before she can reply.

 

 

“I’m heading out,” Asami calls out to Tenzin the next morning.

“Have fun!” Ikki yells.

“Asami, wait for a minute!” Jinora calls out, running up behind her.

Asami turns around; Jinora’s dashing up, followed more sedately by–

“Lord Zuko,” Asami says. “It’s an honor to see you.”

“And you, my dear,” he says. “You’re Asami Sato, yes?”

“He was wondering if he could take a look at your glove,” Jinora says. “Since it’s electricity, and all that.”

“Of course,” Asami says, already going to get it out of her purse. “You’re wondering about bending the electricity that it makes?”

“Not really,” Lord Zuko says. “Just interested in its capabilities in general. It’s such an interesting invention; it gives the capabilities of a firebender or a chi-blocker without the wearer needing to actually posess those capabilities. It has such potential. I wonder if similar gloves could be invented for… oh, I don’t know, freezing water, or something else. I would have liked that, in my youth.”

“Lord Zuko was telling me about the time he dressed up as the Blue Spirit and saved Avatar Aang before he was actually on his side,” Jinora explained. “And I mentioned the gloves, since the whole not needing to be a bender thing would have helped mask his identity more–”

“I’m sure we don’t want to bore Miss Sato with ancient history,” Lord Zuko says.

“No, no, it’s fascinating,” Asami hastens to reassure him. “Though I should be going…”

“Of course,” he says. “May I borrow the glove, just for the day, so that I can inspect it more?”

“Sure,” Asami says. “And feel free to ask me anything about how it works, once I get back.”

“Thank you,” he says graciously. “Now, Jinora, you were wondering about the Day of the Black Sun…”

Asami heads into the city, wandering through the twisting streets, her mind buzzing with ideas. A glove that can freeze water? Maybe one that can manipulate, or at least generate, actual fire? _Maybe not a glove…_ The hazy image of the Blue Spirit drifts through her mind, one of its swords freezing and the other flaming…

Someone screams in a nearby alley.

Asami freezes. She doesn’t have her glove. But she doesn’t need it, does she? She got by fine without it before, but she wasn’t actively looking for trouble before.

Whoever it is screams again.

_Fuck it,_ Asami thinks, and runs into the alleyway.

There’s a man pinning down a crying woman; Asami doesn’t think, just attacks.

She wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him up; he howls and kicks back at her. She stumbles back, her leg throbbing.

“Mind your own business, bitch,” he growls at her, ignoring the crying woman on the ground.

Asami raises her fists; the man charges.

She swings her foot up, catching him in the balls, but he has forward momentum; he grabs her and spins her, pressing her against the wall.

She stays as calm as she can, and elbows him hard in the gut. As he stumbles back, she spins around, her palm open and directed towards his nose. There’s a clearly audible _crunch_.

The man turns and runs, cursing at her. Asami turns her attention to the woman on the ground.

“Are you all right?” she gently asks the woman, kneeling down next to her.

The woman nods shakily. “Thanks to you,” she says, her voice hoarse. “How did you do that?”

“I just know how to hit so it really hurts,” Asami says, offering a hand to help her up.

“I wish I could do that,” the woman mutters, accepting the offered hand.

“Well, it took a while to learn,” Asami says. “What’s your name?”

“Yang,” the woman says. “You–”

“Do you want some help getting to the police?” Asami asks, changing the subject before Yang can identify her.

Yang looks at her oddly. “The police? What could _they_ do?”

Asami blinks, confused. “Track down that man? Arrest him?”

Yang snorts and shakes her head. “Track down one man, out of everyone in this city? They wouldn’t waste that kind of resources on him.”

“Why not?” Asami demands. “He’s a dangerous criminal! He tried to rape you!”

“You’re really not from this part of town, are you,” Yang says. “The police will just ask what I was doing to provoke him – what I was wearing, whether I led him on, stuff like that.”

Asami looks down. “I’m starting to hate this city,” she says quietly. “Or maybe just the police.”

“Yeah, that happens,” Yang says. “And… thank you, again, for stopping him. Do you know where I could learn to do that?”

“What?” Asami glances over at her. “Learn to fight?”

“Well, to defend myself,” Yang says. “To fight back.” She looks at Asami and sighs. “Though… I don’t suppose you know anywhere I could afford, do you.”

Asami bites her lip. “I could teach you,” she offers.

Yang looks at her flatly. “You’re Asami Sato,” she says. “You’re one of the richest people in Republic City. People like you don’t do things like that for people like me.”

“I’m down in Dragon Flats doing machine repairs for free every other day or so,” Asami says, turning to walk away. “Stop by if you want help, okay? For you or anyone else you know.”

 

 

It all sort of snowballs from there.

 

 

“You’re running _self-defense classes_ down in Dragon Flats? Asami, what are you _thinking?_ ”

“I’m thinking that I want to do some good for the people who live in this city, _unlike_ the police, Mako!”

“Asami, it’s not… you don’t know what it’s like, okay?”

“That’s obvious enough!”

“It’s not – can you just let me help!”

Asami pauses. “Wait, what?”

Mako sighs, running his hand over his face. “I want to help, okay?”

“Why?” Asami crosses her arms.

“Uh, because I grew up down in the poorer areas of the city?” Mako looks down. “Asami, I know what it’s like, okay? And… you’re right, it’s wrong, but I can’t do much from where I am. But I want to help.”

Asami thinks for a long moment. “I’m going to need to ask the women,” she says finally. “They deserve some forewarning, at least. Some of them have had bad experiences. And…” Asami nibbles her lower lip. “There’s something else, but…”

“What is it?” Mako asks eagerly.

“Is there a list somewhere of the people who have been accused of going after girls? And not convicted?” Asami puts on her truthful face. “I need to know, in case any of them start hanging around the group.”

“Yeah, sure, I think I can find one of those,” Mako says. “Let me know if I can help with the group, okay?”

“Of course,” Asami says gratefully. “Thanks, Mako.”

“And whatever you _actually_ want that list for, don’t tell me if it’s going to be illegal, okay?” he continues.

Asami freezes. “What do you mean?” she says carefully.

Mako raises an eyebrow. “I’m not an idiot, Asami,” he says. “Make sure you know the vigilantism laws in and out, just in case, okay?”

Asami sighs. “You’ve had too much time to go sneak around ever since Bolin left for Ba Sing Se.”

Mako grins. “I know. All of that time I usually spend getting him out of trouble… I’m learning so much. Did you know that Pema and Chief Beifong get together to swap gossip every week?”

“No,” Asami says, shocked. “Seriously?”

“As far as I can tell, most of it is just bitching about Tenzin and all the airbenders,” Mako says. “It’s fantastic.”

“It sounds–” Asami catches a glimpse of a clock. “Oh man, I’m going to be late. I’ve got to go. Thanks for the help, Mako!”

“Any time!” he calls out as she revvs her motorbike and speeds off.

 

 

The thing is, though, that Asami is helping, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Every other day, she walks down to Dragon Flats to work on the machines and electronics in the morning. She teaches Priya and three other Dragon Flats kids how to fix radios and cars and washing machines. In the afternoon, twelve (and counting) women, from Dragon Flats or Bison Heights or any of the other districts, come over, and Asami teaches them punches and kicks and how to get out of holds.

And on the other days she smiles at businessmen and gets told _Oh, Miss Sato, that’s so…_ unique _of you. How do you find the lower classes?_ And she has to smile and grit her teeth and not punch anyone in the face.

It’s frustrating, yes. But Asami can handle it, because she’s doing good. She’s helping the people of the city.

But there’s Miyuki, who’s never spoken a word since she got attacked by her husband, who follows her around town yelling insults when he gets bored.

There’s Oma, who has scars all over her body because of a man who cornered her in an alleyway.

There’s a girl in her class, Shai, only fourteen, the determined glare in her eye matched by a hint of fear any time someone sneaks up on her.

Asami has to do _something_ about it.

She knows how to use swords, though she isn’t as good at them as she is at hand-to-hand, but the swords are vital for the effect she wants.

They’re also not as effective as normal swords would be, considering that they’ve got small tubes running through them. Asami can press a button on the hilt and have flammable liquid run through and ignite, or have a coolant liquid run through them, or drain them and shoot out a burst of wind.

She’s not a sword person, but these swords are definitely her pride and joy.

(She was considering making some sort of earthbending effect – maybe some sort of gear to shoot out wires so she could maneuver like the metalbenders – but that would be too clunky, so she’s tabled the idea for now.)

Shai’s father is on the list Mako gave Asami.

Time for a real-world test run.

 

 

It’s late evening when Asami decides everything is quiet enough to go out. She dresses all in black and binds her chest tight before putting on a hood, covering her hair and rendering herself completely androgynous. Her swords go on her belt, and the thin, light tanks for the fluids fit over her shoulders like a backpack.

The final touch is the mask of the Blue Spirit, with one key difference.

Asami’s never heard of a Grey Spirit, but she’s completely willing to make one up if she needs to.

She sneaks down to the island’s docks, preparing to use her motorboat. It’ll be loud, but it’s better than nothing.

Katara is waiting there.

“So, the Grey Spirit, hm?” she asks.

“Um,” Asami says. “This isn’t what it looks like?”

“Oh,” Katara says. “So you’re not going to go into the city to deal some well-deserved justice?”

“It may be exactly what it looks like, then,” Asami admits.

“Are you going to kill them?” Katara asks.

“No,” Asami says.

“Best of luck, then,” Katara says.

“You’re not going to stop me?” Asami asks, surprised.

Katara laughs. “Oh, come on. Did you never hear the story about the Painted Lady?”

“You dressed up as the Painted Lady to free Jang Hui from a fire nation factory,” Asami remembers.

“So I really have no good arguments about this kind of vigilantism,” Katara says. “Just try not to get caught.”

“I’ll do my best,” Asami says.

She starts up the quietest motorboat she has, but she still feels very loud riding across the otherwise-quiet bay.

The man she’s looking for is right where she expects him to be – asleep in his apartment.

He startles awake when she climbs in the window. “Whuh?” he asks blearily. “Whozzat?”

Asami ignites her swords.

 

 

_GREY SPIRIT CASTRATING UNCONVICTED CRIMINALS!_

_The Real Question: True Spirit or Vigilante In A Mask?_

 

Asami sees Shai talking excitedly with Priya the next week, not jumping whenever someone comes up behind her. Miyuki and Yang have discovered a mutual interest in movers. Five more women join the class.

Mako gives her a _look_ every time he sees her after the Grey Spirit goes after someone else, but Katara gives her a small, sly grin.

The shit really hits the fan when President Raiko shows up to Air Temple Island one day when Beifong is visiting, to demand that the police and the new airbending force do something about the spirit.

It cues an epic shouting match that sends the kids hiding behind doorways to try and listen in and scares off most of the wildlife in the area, ending with a loud “ _And if you just let me do my job properly, we wouldn’t have this problem in the first place!_ ” from Beifong and a “ _If anything, the airbenders will_ support _this spirit in its actions!_ ” from Tenzin.

Asami Sato just smiles and heads out on one of her walks down to Dragon Flats, to fix electronics and teach people to fight for themselves.

 

**Author's Note:**

> About probably not writing a followup? I lied.  
> Two more days until the premiere! Yay being jossed right after being written!


End file.
